The Lie(107)

“You’re going to ruin me,” he groans. He goes to grab my hair and then stops, remembering my hairdo. “Sorry,” he says, his voice breaking with lust, making fists at his side.

I suck harder, aching for him to come, to feel his release down my throat. First blow job as man and wife and I don’t want to hold back. I want to set the tone for the rest of the marriage. I grab his ass, feeling his muscles flex as he pushes into me, slowly at first, then his thrusts become wild, his voice louder and I want his cum so fucking bad. Everywhere, anywhere.

But he grabs his cock at the base and pulls it out of my mouth, sliding past my lips with a delicious heaviness.

“Turn around,” he says breathlessly, stroking himself as he gazes down at me with sex-dazed eyes. “On all fours.”

Fuck yes.

I do as he asks, insatiable and trembling with anticipation.

He drops to his knees behind me and flips up my dress until it’s bunched around my waist.

Then I hear him suck in his breath.

He lets out a fucking laugh.

“What is it?” I stiffen, trying to turn around and see.

“Are you…” he starts, still laughing. “Are you wearing Sponge Bob underwear?”

Oh, right.

“Uh, yeah,” I admit. “It’s one of the few pairs that fit me now.”

“Is it wrong that I’m terribly turned on?” he asks lightly.

“If you don’t fuck me like you’re terribly turned on, then yes, it’s wrong.”

“Let me see the other side, turn around,” he says, grabbing hold of my hips and trying to twist them.

“No!” I cry out but then he grabs my waist and flips me around until my legs are spread and he’s staring directly at Sponge Bob’s crazy smile.

“That’s just…very you,” he says, grinning. I can’t tell if he’s smiling for me or my underwear. He could practically have a conversation with Sponge Bob at this point. “But, sadly for Mr. Square Pants, your pants are coming off.”

Impatiently he yanks down them down my thighs and tosses them aside. I’m glad Winter is out with Shelly right now because he’d be making off with them already. That dog loves my underwear as much as he loves Brigs’ shoes.

Brigs then slips the straps down over my shoulders and pulls down the bodice until my breasts bounce free. His eyes burn over them and desire pools between my legs, begging for his touch. He cups my breasts, heavy in his hands, and turns his attention to one as he licks in long draws of his tongue, teasing, until he closes his mouth over my nipple and sucks. I feel myself stiffen in his wet, hot mouth, everything so heightened, so sensitive and I’m moaning, wanting more, so much more.

He does the same to my other breast, sucking it so deep in his mouth that my spine arches and I feel like he might just consume me here and now. I grab the back of his head, not caring if I mess up his hair, and dig my nails in, moaning. My breasts spill in his hands, too much for him to handle and he’s hungry, frenzied, wanting more.

“Fuck, Brigs,” I swear, unable to take it. “Fuck me.”

“Yeah?” he asks softly, his voice thick with desire.

I nod and quickly flip back on my hands and knees. This won’t take long at all.

But Brigs isn’t always one to rush. At least he doesn’t rush on the one day he needs to rush.

He places his wide palms on my ass and pulls my cheeks apart before lowering his head. I tense up as I feel this tongue between the crack, swooping down into my cunt and up again. My whole body seems to flinch until his tongue, relentless, tireless, starts to wear me down, skirting over the most delicate areas until my skin swells with need.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, Mrs. McGregor,” he says, taking his fingers and lightly tapping it against me. He blows on me – that’s something new – and the ache for him to ram his cock inside me is so acute that I feel like I’m going blind to the world, that there’s only him and me and this primal desire for each other. A desire that takes over everything, even a wedding ceremony.

He keeps blowing, the air causing my nerves to dance, my skin to tighten, and then slowly pushes his thumb in my ass while positioning his cock. I’m so open for him, wet, swollen, greedy and, with a firm hold, he pulls me back onto his shaft.

I gasp as he fills me, my body expanding around him, the angle and the wild lust and the hormones and emotions filling me up with so much want and need and joy, that I must be glowing like the sun inside. With deliberation he eases himself back in and bites my shoulder playfully.

“Mrs. McGregor,” he murmurs again, in my ear, licking down my neck.

Then the bites are harder and he’s holding my waist tighter and with a few hard pumps, he’s packed inside me, deep and tight, and I’m clenching around him.